Obsidian
by KatieEatsBrains
Summary: Winter Hawthorne has a sinister wish and an even darker angel. Rated M for subject and language.


The sky was bleeding; auburn into lavender and lavender into navy until the hues fell into complete obsidian. Simple smudges of darkened cloud cover dotted the skyline as the day came to an end and yet… Life resumed. It didn't matter that the sun's light was faltering or that the time was becoming a later number; no, people commenced with their lives as if a dying day didn't matter.

It mattered to one man though, as his eyes rose to the pastel colors of the setting sun. Fading light touched his brown eyes and glazed them over, as if a tender memory had consumed his body, but that wasn't the case. Blood rose in his throat and he hacked it into the grass at his knees; more of the bile came up as he felt his ribs being broken apart by a simple, sleek hand.

"Please," He gasped, his eyes becoming splotchy with gray dots as his consciousness began to falter. But he still managed to take in the unfurling darkness. Wait, no. Unfurling _wings_: black as the night sky.

Wings?

* * *

><p>It had been one of those days, one where your mind takes over and traps you within the overwhelming question of <em>what if? <em>So, you begin to doubt your every step, every word spoken and even the breaths you take. Eventually, it comes to the point of needing to escape, to _run_ away from it all. Just for the sake of breathing and having dirtied oxygen within your swelling cerebral lobe.

Yeah, it had been one of those days for Winter Hawthorne. Seeking her salvation, she had disappeared into the darkening trails of the untamable wilds behind her silent home. Headphones clamped around her ears, she shut out the deafening sounds of nature to keep her sanity as she walked further into the tree line. Here, it was darker under the canopy of the shedding birch trees. Their white bodies glowed in the growing night, as if they were lit from the inside, lighting her way to reprieve.

Or so she had hoped. She almost smiled at the thought.

There was a break in the displacement of trees, leading out into what looked like a simple meadow of overgrown grass and random wildflowers.

_That could pass as haven, right?_

As Winter passed through the last of the birch trees, she noticed two shadowed figures standing on the edge of the clearing. One of the shaded men was on their knees, hunched over the hand of the other person. Winter caught the rasping plea of the man on the ground as he begged for forgiveness before letting out a disturbingly wet cough

_And went completely still._

Winter sucked in a breath and watched his body fall limply into the grass as the taller shadow pulled his hand from the man's broken chest. Panic filled her abdomen to the point of being sick when the man's head turned her way. The fading sunlight illuminated his face, and the black expanse of feathered wings spilling from his shoulder blades.

Winter faltered back a step and began to tremble as the man sauntered forward, step by step, closer and closer until he was a mere feet away. The same hand that he had used to impale the other man with reached out toward her, blackened with blood.

Winter glanced at the gruesome digits with fear in her throat; she took another step back into the tree line and tried to drown out her fascination with common sense.

Soft orange light fell onto the man's high cheekbones and made his hazel eyes blaze an unstable green, the flecks of brown within reflecting a gentleness that shouldn't have been there.

Winter was just imagining, maybe even hoping that there was some sort of softness to the dark angel in front of her. Was that desire either for her own life or to have it entangle with his, was beyond Winter's spinning mind.

The man whispered her name as he took a few steps closer and that's when Winter decided to flee. She raced through the birch trees that seemed to be her only friends, feeling lost as she darted between them. She thought that that was ridiculous, since she knew these woods like the back of her own hand. But she had never felt this kind of terror when she passed through the tree line. She wasn't sure she would make it out of the forest before that man caught up to her…

But when she saw the back of her home glowing in between the trunks of the trees surrounding her, she felt hope surge in her chest, causing her feet to pound the ground with the promise of escape. She dared a glance over her shoulder and saw that the man with the black wings had decided not pursue her. But that fact did not calm Winter, she had witnessed him murder a man and she knew she wasn't going to be left alive for glimpsing such a thing.

She swallowed down another wave of rising panic and tried to feign some sense of calm as she entered her home and hoped to wake to another day.

* * *

><p>The smell of rotting, aged pages filled Winter's nose as she browsed the spines of weathered hardbacks, happy to be lost in the solemn world of literature. Here she could pretend that yesterday didn't happen, that black wings didn't protrude from gentle-eyed, murderous angels.<p>

_Maybe it was all a dream?_

Winter swallowed down the thought, knowing that dreams could never inflict the type of terror she had felt the day before whilst racing through a darkened forest.

A sigh escaped her small frame as she tucked herself into a secluded corner of the empty library. For some reason, she always found herself alone, in places that would make sense for a lone person to go: libraries, decaying forests, abandoned buildings... Was it forced or for a good reason, her tendency for loneliness?

Winter picked through the stack of books she had selected from the dusty shelves and settled on a particularly battered tome. Just as she began to lose herself in the fading ink of the pages, someone nudged her foot.

She looked up, miffed at the interruption, but her irritation disappeared as soon as she realized who had tripped over her:

Soft light from the library's windows sparked his hazel eyes alive with shocking green flecks, too gentle for what Winter had witnessed him doing the night before.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, eyes half lidded with an emotion Winter couldn't place, nor did she care enough to even try and place it.

She shrugged her shoulders in answer to his apology and commenced reading, watching him the entire way as he scanned the bookshelves.

_What the fuck is he doing here?_ Winter wondered, her mind racing with fear as she realized she didn't have too much time to escape. The library was too small to hide in; he would find her all too quickly… Nowhere to run either.

_Shit._

She stood up, taking the pile of beaten books with her. As she approached the sweet, old woman at the check-out counter, she watched the dark angel out of her peripheral.

He didn't look like the murderous man she had seen last night, but she knew better as she scrutinized his features: the curling edges of his henna hair as it cascaded into unstable eyes... The length of his fingers as he delicately traced the broken spine of a damaged tome…

The same fingers that managed to crack through ribs and kill an innocent man.

Winter shuddered and took her stack of books from the smiling woman as she exited the library. The sun had started to set, casting softness on the barren land around her. Even though autumn had killed all the leaves with the beginnings of frost, the breeze still managed to be a decent warmth as it wrapped around her. A sigh of content escaped Winter as she made her way to her car, this was her favorite season, after all.

Despite her hands being full, Winter managed to get the passenger side door of her car open and place the books safely inside. Just as she was about to slam the door shut, she noticed something reflecting rainbows on the floor mat. She reached for it and caught herself mid-stride, realizing what it was:

A single, obsidian feather.

_The fading sunlight illuminated his face, and the black expanse of feathered wings spilling from his shoulder blades._

Winter stumbled back, trembling fingers shutting the door as she realized that the dark angel truly was pursuing her. Heat rose to her face and breath pushed between her parted lips; she was going to _faint._ He meant to kill her, whether that meant physically or mentally, she wasn't sure… Either way, Winter was losing her barring on her desolate, easy life and _fast._

In midst of her rising panic, she failed to notice that she had backed herself up against something warm. Winter sucked in a breath and slowly turned her neck, taking in the very man that she had tried to escape from moments ago.

Her heart hammered painfully in her chest as she whimpered out a miserable apology, but he only smiled as he righted her shaking frame.

His fingers were warm as they encircled her arms, but all she could imagine was the crimson stain of another's blood. Her stomach churned painfully; god, she _needed_ to get away from this man before she blacked out.

Winter looked up into his eyes, ready to tell him to let her go of her, but as soon as their eyes met, he spoke:

"You left this on the counter back in the library." He held out the very book Winter had been reading when he tripped over her foot. How could she have forgotten that particular tome?

Her fingers clasped the tattered spine gently. "I, uh… Thank you…?" She left the end of her sentence open, curiosity getting the best of her as she found herself wanting to know his name.

"Garret." He said simply.

Winter nodded slowly and swallowed down fear. "Thank you, Garret." She managed as she turned and made her way to her car in the growing darkness.

She fumbled with her keys for what seemed like ever, when a gust of air cascaded her hair around her. Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed that Garret had disappeared, leaving a few black feathers drifting down to the pavement from where he had just stood moments ago. Winter wandered over to where he had been and picked up one of the discarded feathers. She twirled it between her fingertips, trying to figure out if this really came from him or from a stupid crow. Maybe he was just fucking with her. Maybe she had witnessed some kind of freak show and Garret wasn't going to let her live it down.

But then again, she did remember the wings that had spilled from his shoulder blades the night before. Her peaked interest got the better of her and she placed the lone feather in between the pages of the book Garret had given her.

Why had he let her live another day?

* * *

><p><em>Winter had her head leaned back against the rough bark of an oak tree, the huge canopy throwing her into the shadows, and maybe even into a sigh of relief. Here, there were no furled wings gleaming in the afternoon's sun, there wasn't the dying plea of an innocent man on the desolate breeze. Here, Winter heaved a breath and relaxed her frayed muscles; she had been on high alert since the other night, muscles taught with coiled stress.<em>

Here, he won't find me. _Winter thought quietly, limbs warm with the sun's rays, eyes closing in peace; finally, at rest._

_The wind stirred leaves around her as she fell slowly into sleep, the clouds drifting languidly, giving her a slight chill as she was tossed into shadow._

"Winter."

_She stirred, eyes opening and seeing nothing but nature in front of her. No one around to call her name except the trees. Her mind was just playing tricks on her. Winter settled back and let her eyes slip back closed, but she couldn't relax._

That voice sounded familiar...

_The wind picked up again, rustling the leaves and making the trees howl softly. Winter felt a warmth on her side; the sun must've peeked through the clouds and was warming her shoulder._

"Do you honestly think you can escape me?"

_Winter jolted awake, eyes wide with fear. The voice was faint, as if caught in the lulling breeze. Was it her imagination taunting her again?_

_Winter tried to calm her rising and falling chest, turning to check over her shoulders for any sign of black wings. She stood up and dusted her clothing off, slowly making her way around the oak tree, fingers dragging across the bark as she check__ed__one side of the tree: no one._

_Winter sighs a little. Of course no one's here..._

_She turns back around and wanders out from the shade of the tree, glancing around for Garrett._

What makes me so sure that he is here?_ Winter thought to herself and scoffed. _I'm just being absurd. I'm completely alone here.

_Putting one shaky foot in front of the other, Winter forces herself to start heading toward home, cutting through the darkening woods._

"You can't escape me, Winter. You're mine now."

_Reality smashes down into Winter as the voice wraps around her and fills her with a chilling dread._

He's here...

_Swallowing down a rising panic, his name falls from Winter's parted lips, a choked cry that died on the wind._

Garret.

_She is gasping, slow tears slipping down her cheeks as cold fingers wrap around her upper arms and forced her back against the cold trunk of a birch tree. A thin veil of mist forms in front of Winter, getting thicker and taking shape of a familiar face: Garret, twitching black wings unfurling behind him as he takes full form._

_Winter's heart is pounding, racing painfully in her chest as Garret's grip grows tighter, pulling her closer to him, his chill entering her body and poisoning her with fear._

"Garret..."

_He looks down at her, eyes burning green gold, emotionless and inhuman. _"Beg for your life."

_The inhuman man leans into the trembling girl, mouth lowering down to hers. The dark angel places his kiss onto her frozen mouth, taking her fleeting soul through her lips and into his with a single, soft exhale.  
><em>

* * *

><p>Winter wakes with a jolt and a gasp of much needed air. She is in the woods, propped against the same oak tree in her dream. She must have fallen asleep and dreamed of Garret's murdering her through<p>

_a kiss._

She uses the tree as support and forces herself to her feet. Her heart is still hammering from the dream... She needed to get home before the reverie became a reality.

Winter entered the threshold of scattered trees and rubbed her arms, trying to chase out the chill in her bones.

"Winter!"

_Fuck._

Her dream was coming to life; there was no mistaking that voice. Her heart started to beat against her ribs causing her to start running from the voice.  
>Arms reached out and grabbed her roughly by the wrist. Winter frantically flailed her arms at Garret, her nails digging into his skin.<p>

"Shit, Winter. Stop, I'm not going to hurt you." He protested, avoiding her attacks.

Winter tried to wiggle herself out of his grasp and he reluctantly let her loose. She jumped back, gasping for breath as she looked at Garret through the veil of her hair.

"I know what you've done. I saw you kill that man! I've dreamt of your murdering me for witnessing it. I saw... you're not human." Her words are breathless accusations, laced with fear and doubt and confusion _and__-_

His hazel eyes take her in as if she were a grotesque mass of tentacles.

"What?" She screamed. "Are you going to try and play innocent?" She took a step forward.

"You can't hide. Unfurl your wings, you monster. Show me the hand that cracked through a man's chest, the one you reached out to me, dripping with his blood."

His eyes became dark with betrayal and he hung his head, as if ashamed. A slow, manical laugh came from Garret, causing his body to tremble.

"What kind of girl seeks solace in the woods?" He asks, still laughing harshly. "If you ask me, you want to die. You came to the clearing, stinking of black desolation, and witnessed your deepest desire: _death."_

Winter swallowed as his words hit. Why... why did it feel as if he was telling the truth? Did Winter want to disappear so badly that an angel had come to grant her wish? And since her wish was so sinister and selfish that, of course, a dark angel would come to reap her of life.

She coughed out a laugh: life didn't work that way, it wasn't that forgiving or merciful. If you wanted death, you had to find it yourself, because you're the only one who understands why you have the need to eridicate yourself.

_A sinful wish and a dark angel._

_"__Kill me then."_

Garret laughs. "Shall I do it as you dreamed?" He asks as he closes the space between them and leans his head down to hers.

"Shall I plant a kiss on your lips and take your soul into mine?" He whispers, a dark hunger in his tone.

Winter looked up into Garret's green flecked eyes and found some courage. She reached her fingers up to hold his jaw in her hands and pushed her mouth against his, whispering softly that she is his.

_Yes._

In death, she is _his.  
><em>


End file.
